Sunday, February 24, 2008

When I Was Empty Seashells

the waterthe sparklethe brightnessthe sharpnessthe forgetfulness of the sea the oceanthe saltthe sand in all the flavors of the worldgarnetsharks teethbonethe bone of the sun in the eyethe imprecision of the sandthe sweat of the wavesthe roll of the wavesrocking empty seashells

the empty memories

how many seashellshow many echoes of memory spiral back into the conch?

the beach is widethe beach swallows this citythe beach washes the feet of this citythe beach washes away the auto

the waves play with wordsI rearrange the shells on the dresser topthe moon comesthe women gofireflies follow the washing of hair at twilight

once I was wholethen I was empty seashellsthen the sea makes me whole again